It was pitch black inside the musty hotel room. There was mold in the corners, the ground I was once sleeping on was moist with something unidentifiable and there were moans of lust coming from the bedroom. Music was still playing, blasting the god-awful sounds and beeps they like to call dubstep.

I stood up slowly and silently, being sure not to step on anyone who was sleeping. I checked the time on my phone, 2:30 am. 30 minutes before witching hour. 3 hours past the time I was supposed to be home. Oh well.

I stumbled into the bathroom, still tipsy from drinking the night before. I actually really hate drinking. It tastes like shit. I just like getting lost and alcohol seems to help. I switched the light on, looked into the mirror and tried to suppress a gasp, I looked as if I’d just been brutally beaten. Dark make-up smearing across my face from my forehead to my chin and everywhere else in between.

I took my time to clean my face off properly, I thought of the best way I could sneak back into my house without getting caught by my parents. I was sure they knew I was going to be late, but I really don’t want to deal with them. For all they knew, I passed out at Marcey’s house.

I walked back into the dark room once again tip toeing over strangers. They’re only strangers because I crashed their party. It's not that difficult to get in. It just takes good looks or "party favors". I just so happened to have the second one. My shoulder length brown hair and hazel bug eyes are nothing special. Some people say big eyes are pretty, I say they look like bug eyes.

The only reason I crash these parties is because I'm invisible. Really though, I mean, not literally but sometimes I really think I am. I only have one real friend and sometimes I think that she doesn’t even want to be near me. Sometimes she says she’s scared of me. I don’t blame her. Her name’s Marcey. I already mentioned her.

My parents fight constantly so if I ever do anything to interrupt them they act as if I murdered someone and they lock me up in my bedroom for a month or two then continue to ignore me instead of talking to me about why I received the punishment like normal parents. It’s ironic, isn’t it. It doesn't matter, I don't really do much anyways, beside the occasional party crashing.

The parties I’d crash aren't ever in town or on the outskirts. They have to be a few miles out of town at the least. It ensured I wouldn’t know anyone. It's the only time I can be myself.

Before I left I spotted a pack of cigarettes and matches. I took them and lit one up as I stepped out of the room. Don’t look at me like that, it’s a terrible habit, I already know that.
I searched through my bag trying to look for my phone to call a cab and as I was searching I dropped my cigarette. "Fuck..." I whispered to myself. I got another cigarette out of the pack I stole. Somehow I managed to lose my lighter in my bag, just like the phone.

At this point I was on my knees, unlit cigarette between my lips, looking for my phone and my lighter. Suddenly I saw a pair of shoes in front of me and amazingly the shoes had a voice too, well, until I realized that the shoes actually had legs growing out of them, as well as a torso, chest, arms, neck, and face, "Need a lighter?" asked the voice. I looked up, searching for whom the voice belong to and oddly enough, it was Gerard. He goes to my school. We were in the same lunch, psychology, trig and art class and even though we both shared the same passion for art, we never spoke a single word to each other, until now of course. He’s really cute., I got to admit. Too bad I made a vow to myself that I'd never date anyone in my school, not that he'd be interested.

1 of those reasons being that he’s actually dating my twin sister.

I played it off cool, slowly rising and simply nodding at him. Trying to be as badass as he was. It’s unfortunate, really. He pulled out a lighter. I shielded the fire from the wind and breathed in deeply, igniting the fire on the cigarette. I took the cigarette out of my mouth and blew smoke away from his general direction.
"Thanks." I muttered quietly.

There was a pause, it wasn't quite awkward, it was actually more like he was thinking of something.
Right as I was about to leave, he spoke.
"Hey, isn't your name Fawn? You're in my art class, right?" and psychology, and lunch, and trig, I thought.
"Uhh, I think so." it came out of my mouth more as a question than a statement.
"Yeah...why are you out here so late?" he asked.
"Well, why are you?" I asked back.
He laughed a little. Dammit, it was cute. It killed me.
"Doesn't matter." he said almost too quiet.
"Do you need a ride back home? I mean, unless you rather call a cab and have some creepy old dude drive you home." I smiled and giggled like a little girl when he said that and he looked smug as hell that he was able to make me laugh. He killed me.
"Oh, no I'd much rather go with the creepy old dude." I said sarcastically.

I followed him to his car and told him my address, of course he already knew it, he’s been to my house for my sister plenty of times. On our way there we had talked for what seemed like forever.

"Why haven't we spoken to each other before?" he asked.
"To be honest, no one really notices me at school. I mean it's not necessarily a bad thing, but a lot of the time people don't even look me let alone speak to me. I think I scare people actually."
After I said that I was immediately paranoid that I said the wrong thing. That I opened up way too early in this friendship. It's all too close for comfort. And right as I began to wish I didn't say anything in the first place, Gerard turned his attention away from the road, looking me right in the eye and spoke the words I've never heard before in my life.